


Creep

by Clio_Codex



Series: Wandering Stars [9]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28539489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clio_Codex/pseuds/Clio_Codex
Summary: Atton and Meetra in the Telos cantina post-Peragus ....“A toast Surik.  To being alive.”  That seemed like enough of an explanation.To his surprise she smiled back, maybe the first time she had, her odd icy blue eyes softening almost imperceptibly.  “Yeah, guess we are that.  Alive.”  She laughed a bit, dipped her head like maybe she was embarrassed.  “Sometimes I forget that matters, you know, living.”  A flicker of sadness replaced the indifference she'd had worn since they met.That answer was another surprise as he’d seen her fight for her life now multiple times - and she definitely fought like someone who cared about staying alive.  Atton knew well what happened when you didn’t care, the way you went looking for excuses to die, hoping fate might take care of the thing you were too much a coward to handle yourself.Part of my "Wandering Stars" series but can stand alone.
Relationships: Atton "Jaq" Rand/Meetra Surik, Female Jedi Exile/Atton "Jaq" Rand
Series: Wandering Stars [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952851
Comments: 15
Kudos: 16





	Creep

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently Meetra/Atton just screams angsty 90s alt-rock to me? I make no apologies for that nor for my hopeless addiction to these two.
> 
> Thoughts always welcome :)

You're so fuckin' special

I wish I was special

But I'm a creep

I'm a weirdo

What the hell am I doin' here?

—Radiohead, “Creep”

It was a pretty typical station cantina, overpriced booze, weird smoky haze, assorted grifters and sorry sorts.Atton was surprised that Meetra had agreed to come, but it did beat sitting around in the musty apartment they’d been stuck in.And it meant escaping the old woman’s prying.He wasn’t sure if she’d been at Meetra, too, but Kreia had been trying to dig in his mind sincePeragus. Atton was no stranger to hiding from Force users, but this one was particularly cunning; his usual tricks had barely kept her out.

But he could forget that now, at least for a bit, lose himself in the haze and the booze and the company of this rather remarkable woman.Well, he wasn’t exactly sure that Meetra was up for being lost in, but a guy could always hope.

She’d told him to go ahead, had wanted to check in again with the TSF to see if there was word on their ship.A good companion would have gone with her, not darted ahead to warm a seat at the bar.Atton Rand had never been a good companion though, had he?Took two smokes and a juma juice to convince himself that tagging along with her just would have made him look desperate instead of helpful.

He was just about to hit his second glass when she slid into the seat beside him, close enough that he could smell her.They’d showered at the apartment, first time since the mess on Peragus, and the scent of the cheap floral soap they’d found in the fresher had replaced the kolto she’d stunk of before.There was a musky sort of thing underneath it all that made him want to bury his nose in the crook of her neck.

He really didn’t always think like that did he?

As she leaned over to sniff at his glass, she brushed against his arm just barely.They’d touched before, plenty of times for as little as they’d known each other, a consequence of fighting off homicidal mining droids and Sith Lord Sleeps-with-Vibroblades.Still the contact felt electric. _Stupid, Rand._

Maybe it had just been too long.Probably should have gone and paid for it instead of playing the long game here, except that Atton really wanted this particular long game to work without understanding why. _She’s a Jedi; bad idea._ As if he had a track record of chasing good ideas.

“You drink that swill?” She was eyeing the juma in his hand, a frown on her face.

“Hey to you, too, Surik.And sorry if it’s not quite fancy enough for you.”Atton had learned years before that the cheap stuff was as good at making you forget as the high end booze.After the first few glasses, you didn’t much taste it anyway.“Does the job though.Smoke?”

Meetra shook her head and waved at the bartender.“Corellian whiskey, two glasses and just leave the bottle.”Seemed she had good tastes, expensive ones, too, given the cost of imports on Telos these days.

“Fancy.What do I owe the expense to?” Lighting his cigarette gave his hands something to do that wasn’t brushing that stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

She dropped credits when the bartender returned, then poured them both a glass.“Consider it thanks for Peragus.You could have bailed and you didn’t.That’s at least worth half a bottle of good whiskey.”Her brow quirked just a bit.“And the TSF was kind enough to provide a credit advance for the trouble they put us through.” 

He took the glass she offered.“I mean, I’m not sure I had a choice about Peragus unless I wanted to join the body count.”The smirk on his face felt as false as it was for the first time ever.He’d been scared shitless on Peragus, locked in that damn holding cell listening to the screams of the dying off in the distance, helpless to do anything to save himself much less anyone else.“Really, I should be thanking you, for showing up when you did.” _You are doing the thing Rand.Stop doing the thing._

When she had walked in, wearing nothing but a kolto soaked military issue tank and undershorts, well, he had nearly blurted out that stupid line about her being an angel.Not that what he’d actually managed to say had been much better.But figuring out that she was the Jedi the bounty hunters had been after and knowing that he’d managed to get himself in over his head yet again….well, sleazy words were easier than the truth weren’t they? _Still hiding._

Ought to be grateful that she’d let him out of the cage and hadn’t zapped him with a mining laser instead.

Now she was just watching him, something unreadable on her face.“True, you probably should be thanking me, Rand, but in any case, we made it out, and I wouldn’t have if I’d not found you.”They were both just holding the whiskey, frozen halfway up to taking a drink.“And, you weren’t lying when you said you were a good pilot.We would definitely not be enjoying this _charming_ cantina if you weren’t.”

For some reason, she reached over to take his smoke and tapped it out, nearly touching his face as she did.The noise of the cantina - the loud conversation, the bad music, the shouts from the pazaak table - all that faded.He still couldn’t parse her expression, a sort of puzzled look.Maybe she was reading him, but he’d feel if she was poking in his head and he didn’t so she wasn’t.Just the old-fashioned way then, her eyes scanning his face, dipping to the open collar of his shirt.He should have taken his jacket off; suddenly the cantina was too hot for it.

Only fair to look back he supposed.His finger trembled at the rim of his glass as his eyes traced the curve of her shoulder and the ridge of her collarbone exposed by the grubby tank she wore.He imagined running his tongue along that path, curling in the hollow of her neck before running up her throat, could nearly taste the salt of her skin. _Is that all you can think about dirty bastard?_ Not that she’d let him. 

So instead he gave a lopsided grin, a real one.“How about a toast?”

“Pardon?”

“A toast Surik.To being alive.”That seemed like enough of an explanation.

To his surprise she smiled back, maybe the first time she had, her odd icy blue eyes softening almost imperceptibly.“Yeah, guess we are that.Alive.”She laughed a bit, dipped her head like maybe she was embarrassed.“Sometimes I forget that matters, you know, living.”A flicker of sadness replaced the indifference she’d worn since they met.

That answer was another surprise as he’d seen her fight for her life now multiple times - and she definitely fought like someone who cared about staying alive.Atton knew well what happened when you didn’t care, the way you went looking for excuses to die, hoping fate might take care of the thing you were too much a coward to handle yourself.He wasn’t quite in that place now, not since the events that led him to Peragus gave him enough of an interesting distraction to forget those thoughts. 

Looking at the woman in front of him, he wondered if perhaps it was worth continuing to forget, worth trying to remember why it felt good to toast to being alive to scrap another day.“It matters; living matters.”Maybe that was to convince himself and not her, not that his voice sounded convincing at all.But it felt true, at least in this moment in this shitty cantina in a place that was trying to rebuild from war; it mattered to want to fight to live again.

“To living.”He raised his glass, swallowing back the flutters in his throat at the intensity of her gaze.

She clinked her glass to his in reply, a wistfulness in her voice.“To living.”

They drank.The whiskey’s burn chased back the flutters and warmed his belly.Liquid courage some called it, and that was often true.Of course it also loosed your tongue, made you say things you should really only think, like some nonsense about how he could get lost in the depths of her eyes. 

He drank again.

“So what’s your story, Rand?”Meetra spun her glass in her hands, watching him carefully still.Her eyes were still softer though, like she really did want to know.Of course, Atton wasn’t about to tell her, not the whole truth of it anyway. _Coward._

“The usual I guess.Ran off at 19 to join the war, save the Republic and all.Things went sideways after Malachor.Been drifting since.”All that was true if you didn’t look for the parts he’d left out, like how he’d stayed on with Revan after Malachor and the thing he’d become. _Murderer._

But the half answer seemed enough for now.Meetra just nodded slightly and tossed back her drink.“Yeah, Malachor.Fair enough to say things went sideways there.”That other sense he had tingled; there was something more to that tale.

“How about you?Last of the Jedi.Seems like a story there.” _Tread carefully._

“Maybe.”She refilled her glass.“Too bad I don’t know what it is.Like I said before, I’ve not had any contact with Jedi since right after Malachor.Haven’t paid much attention to the war either or what happened after.Was a bit done with it all.”

“That I can understand.”He sipped at his own glass, suddenly wanting to keep his wits and have an honest conversation.“Not sure you missed much.Just lots of dying.”That wasn’t a lie; there had been plenty of dying and not much good after Malachor.Didn’t need to explain his part in it just yet though.“Why did you come back, then?”

Her eyes turned sad again, just a flash that he’d have missed if he’d not been staring.“I wasn’t planning on it.Wanted to stay lost.But someone wanted me found.”Well, that was a curious way to put it.

“Do you know who?The old woman?”Just thinking about the witch had him counting cards in his head.

Meetra squinted at him, like she could hear his mental math.“No, I don’t think it was Kreia.Or maybe.”Her fingers tapped on the counter, a sort of nervous habit he thought.“I know I should know her, but there’s something ….missing?Or hidden?I don’t know how to explain it really.There’s just too much I don’t know or understand right now.Like I just picked up a book that I put down years ago, skipped ahead 10 chapters, and forgot most of the plot of what I’d read before.” 

Atton wanted to touch her, maybe just lay his fingers gently on her own.There was something so goddamn lonely rippling off of her, something else that was calling to him and wanted him to understand.If he touched her, that might tell him what it was, give him an idea of what to say or let him offer some small reassurance. _You, comforting?_

Instead, he grinned again, a safe default.“Not sure you have to explain.That is, you don’t owe me an explanation.I think I asked too much.Didn’t mean to pry…”He fumbled for his cigarettes.

Her fingers were warm and light as the tips of them brushed against his knuckles.He couldn’t meet her gaze, just stared at the way her hand lingered, hovering just above his.“You didn’t.Didn’t ask too much.I wish I had the answer is all.” 

He could feel her eyes wanting him to look, knew she was biting the inside of her cheek without seeing her do it.She’d done that on Peragus whenever she was thinking about what to do next.Had done it here on Telos when they were trying to figure why they’d been detained.So what was she thinking now, with her hand touching his?

Her fingers moved, just a bit, dangerously close to the inside of his wrist.If she went there, she’d feel his pulse racing. _Fucking get it together._

“What do you know of the Force, Rand?”That really wasn’t a direction he wanted to go, of course.If she was a Jedi or if the old woman was…..

The whiskey might help.He raised the glass with his left since her fingers still rested on his right.“Not much.Just what people say about Jedi.Knew a few in the war.Saw things.”If he managed to tell half truths, at least she couldn’t accuse him of lying later.“You said you lost it?The Force?”Keeping her talking was safer than answering questions.

When she moved her hand to cup her glass he had to bite back a sigh at the loss of contact.How could you feel the absence of something you’d never really had? 

“Yeah, sort of.That’s one way to think about it.Couldn’t feel it feel it after Malachor in any case, couldn’t use it.Don’t understand why or how.More questions.”She was watching the glass now, tapping her fingers enough to make the liquid slosh.“When I woke up on Peragus, it started coming back.Maybe if I could remember how I got there, what happened on the Harbinger and how I ended up on the Hawk, maybe that would explain why.But I don’t remember.And here we are.”

It clicked then, how he knew her name.The old instinct came flooding back, the one that had made him so good as an assassin.

“You were Revan’s shadow.”He not even made it a question. This was exactly the sort of thing he’d have done to a mark, tossed out some bit of info that he knew would catch them off guard, would force them to drop their defenses just enough to give him an opening. 

If he was hoping for a different sort of opening, that was really the last thing he should have said.

She drank.“People called me that I guess.Not sure I paid attention to that talk like I should have.Might have made different choices if I had.”There wasn’t anger in her voice; no emotion at all really.“But, yeah, I was a Jedi who went to war.One of Revan’s generals.”Her laugh was an ugly one.“That didn’t end well, did it?”

He should have an answer since he’d pushed down this path.“You thought you were doing the right thing.It was the right thing.”

“Until Malachor.”She was biting her cheek again.

“I think we covered that things went sideways after that.”He tried to laugh but it sounded wrong. 

Not as wrong as her eyes were, though.“I did that, Malachor.I gave the order.”She emptied her glass and poured another as he sat like a fool.There were rumors about that, too.That destroying half the Republic fleet along with the Mandalorians had been Revan’s plan all along.Whispers said the Jedi who gave the order parted ways with Revan and Malak afterwards, no one knew exactly why.So many Jed left or died - or fell - in those days. Easy for even one as notable as Revan’s shadow to just disappear.

“Oh.”In the chaos that followed Malachor so many, including himself, had made snap decisions about where to go next.Atton wished he could say he’d thought hard, that he’d made what he thought was the moral choice.But the truth was he’d followed Revan without thinking, maybe because he’d spent the worst of the war trusting that Revan was the answer, not so much a man as an idea.

That idea had turned, had fallen.And Atton Rand had fallen right along with it.He’d taken lives in the war, but that was nothing like the work he’d done after, the hunting, the stalking, the killing.That he was damn good at it, maybe the best of Revan’s dark assassins, well that didn’t say much positive about his character, did it?

He didn’t realize how long they’d sat in silence until she spoke again, jolting him out of his memories.

“You don’t have to say anything.There’s nothing to say.Not asking you to understand.But wanted you to know in case you decide to stick around.Wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t know the truth.”There was that bitter laugh again.He wondered what it would take to bring back that hint of a smile she’d had when they’d toasted to being alive. 

So, of course, he said another very wrong thing.

“I met Revan a few times.He was pretty persuasive so I could see how….”

She snorted and shot back another whiskey. “He’s my brother, Revan.Was.Heard he’s dead.Should have felt it, but, well,” she waved her hands, “no connection.”

“Oh.Yeah, guess you’d know then.Can’t say that came up when we talked and I mean not that we talked about those sorts of things so I….” _Just shut up._ Fortunately, Meetra seemed lost enough in her thoughts that she ignored his babbling and just topped off their glasses.

Atton slammed another smoke in his mouth to stop it from moving.Hard to tell what she was thinking, but the silence felt heavy.He considered what he knew besides Meetra’s name.She’d kept a low profile during the war, few saw her, but the word was she was very close to Revan.

No one knew who Revan was really, other than that he was a Jedi, or had been.But aside from that, always the mask and robes, no hint of a face; he wasn’t like Malak who paraded around, giving rousing speeches. He wondered if Revan had Meetra’s blue eyes behind that mask, if they were always indifferent or if they’d ever looked sad.

Revan’s voice though, Atton had heard that plenty, the sort of voice that never asked but commanded, even when it praised you.He’d been the recipient of that praise, didn’t make you happy; just reminded you that you were still alive and in the game.

By the time he’d realized he’d made the wrong choice after Malachor, he was in too deep.Back then, he’d wanted to live, so he kept playing, got even better at what he’d been asked to do.

But then things fell apart.Revan and Malak had fallen out and the everyday ranks had started to choose sides.When Malak took out Revan’s ship and had claimed leadership, he’d taken that as an opportunity to run and disappear.And he’d been running ever since, years of pretending, of trying to become Atton Rand and not the man who’d gone to war and fallen into the darkness.

But if he’d meant to atone for what he’d done, he probably needed to, well, at least do good things. Remained to be seen if he was capable.Might start by trying to patch things here since he’d dredged up memories that clearly Meetra wanted to forget.

“Surik, I’m sorry.I shouldn’t have gone there.About the war and Revan.”

“It’s fine.”Her face was back to impassive; her voice calm.“It’s done.Revan’s dead.Malak’s dead.Apparently they are all dead, the Jedi, if Kreia is to be believed.” 

“Except apparently you.”As he said it, he knew, the maybe good thing he might do.Fight with her.Do what he could to protect her.Wasn’t much to offer and it wasn’t even clear what she was meant to do.But Atton knew following her was his path.A Jedi might say something about the will of the Force, would argue the timing of his trip to Peragus hadn’t been an accident.He wasn’t sure he bought their mumbo jumbo, but sometimes….coincidence worked out and instinct could lead you right. They’d kept him alive this long anyway.

Meetra was tapping her fingers again, that nervous energy he could almost feel.“I’m trying to imagine that I got sucked back into the world for a reason, that maybe….maybe I can do something to… I don’t know, atone I guess for the fucked up shit I did in the war.Not just Malachor.That was only the worst of it.”She leaned closer, near enough that he could feel her breath on his cheek.“I’m not a good person, Rand.I don’t want you to think I am just because I was a Jedi.Because I’m not now and haven’t been for a long time.”

He was sure she’d not been reading his thoughts, and yet, her words echoed them. And she was waiting for a response. He wanted to say the past didn’t matter, that whatever she’d done in the war or since meant nothing for who she was now. 

It was a lie he wanted to believe could be true for his sake as much as hers.“Do you think people can change?”One hand held his smoke, the other gripped his glass to disguise his uncertainties. “Can they be better than they were?” 

She sat back, pushing her hair behind her ear.“I need to believe that they can, Rand.That we can be better than what we were.”The _we_ threw him.She must know that he was asking for himself, too, that he’d held back his own worst truths.

The whiskey bottle was empty.Bad timing.Before he could decide whether or not to order another, she stood and tugged at her tank.“I need to walk, get some air.Want to join?”

Yeah, he did, so he tossed back the rest of his glass and followed after her, winding through the mess of patrons towards the door.

They walked the nearly empty streets of Citadel Station for what might have been hours, sometimes talking, often not.When they talked, it wasn’t about anything important, just random observations about passers-by or the station or why the TSF seemed to be so incompetent.It wasn’t like Atton to hold back from filling silences with awkward chatter, but somehow with Meetra he found he could. 

He wanted to know more about what she’d done since the war, all those years roaming the Outer Rim alone.But asking would open him to her questions about his own past and he wasn’t ready to tell those stories.He’d have to eventually, would have to lay it all out there to see if she could still trust him knowing his full truth, to learn if she really did believe that people could become something better.

Just not yet.

They’d stopped at a little caf stand, tucked in a forgotten corner of one of the residential modules.The effects of the liquor had long faded with the walking, but a hit of caf was always welcome after drinking.It was late, or rather early; the station night shifters were heading home, the early birds venturing out.Probably would have to head back to the apartment and the old witch soon; too much to hope she’d have wandered off in the night.

A small nook at the juncture of two apartment blocks gave them a quiet spot to avoid the morning crowds.The view was nice, too, a clear view of the planet below, patches of green and blue starting to replace the gray deadness left by the war.If a planet could heal and return to life, maybe Atton Rand could, too.

“So what will you do now?”Meetra’s hands wrapped around her cup as she sipped and gazed at him over the rim.

The caf was too hot, and burnt his tongue as he drank.“Sleep.You’ve kept me up all night, Surik.Not complaining, of course, because the company has been good, but sleeping is definitely on the agenda.And I’ve slept in worse beds than the one back in the apartment; could tell you some stories about that actually.Probably could just curl up on that bench over there and conk right out but…”

Meetra laughed, a true one, something happy and carefree.“You talk a lot, Rand.”Gods if she kept looking at him like that, as though she found him amusing and delightful and not a creep and fool….

“Yeah, sorry, bad habit.Years of…” Damned if she didn’t touch his lips then to stop his chatter, the laugh still in her eyes.So tempting to kiss her fingers or at least take her hand in his, to hope she might run those fingers through his hair or across his cheek.But he really didn’t want to fuck up now, so he just froze.

Her words were quiet, but there was a calm assertiveness in her tone that sparked his flutters again.“No, it’s good.I’ve been so long with just my own thoughts.I like hearing yours.”Her fingers dropped away, brushing down his chin and just grazing his chest.Had she meant to do that?“Don’t stop, Atton.” 

If this was one of those terrible holovids that pretended to be romantic, he’d kiss her now.She was close enough, still looking at him, still faintly smiling.Hell, the sun was even rising, morning light bouncing off the safety glass of the habitat dome. She’d smell like the cantina and that terrible soap, would taste like whisky and caf.Those were just the surface things, the ones that belonged to the Meetra with the indifferent face.He wanted the Meetra underneath, the one who was watching him now, wanted her last words to have meant something more than just keep talking.

But this wasn’t a holovid, so he ran his hands through his hair instead.“Ok, Meetra. I won’t.”He meant it, that promise, something more than just the talking.“What should I say?”

“Up to you.”Her voice was playful; mischief sparked in her eyes.“But I wasn’t really asking about right now. I meant, what’s next for you in the grand scheme of life?Guy with no strings.And you’re a good pilot so…. guess lots of jobs you could turn up.Could probably go anywhere you wanted.”

Time to play his hand then. “You hiring?”

“Sadly, I’m about out of credits.The whiskey.”She was grinning though - and not saying no.And he was nothing if not persistent.

He made a mock pout.“That all I’m worth?A bottle of whiskey.Could easily do better down at the docks.”

For a second, he thought he’d said the wrong thing again, that maybe she’d send him packing.To his relief she laughed and shook her head.“It was damn good whiskey, Rand.”

“Yeah, it was.”They watched each other for a moment.“Tell you what, Surik, you need a pilot, and I need….a chance at something better.So I’m all yours.No fee.”He hoped that sounded as sincere as he’d meant it to, that she’d heard the truth and promise behind the words.

She was biting her cheek again.“How do you know I’m offering a chance at something better?”

“Just a feeling.I get those you know.”

“You know Kreia’s coming,” Meetra frowned.“She’s tied up in this, so I can’t exactly ditch her, no matter what I might like.” 

“All the more reason you need me, Surik.Someone to watch your back.I’m not half bad at that.”And that was true;he was handy with his blasters and had more than a few survival skills up his sleeve.

“So I’ve seen.But are you sure?I don’t know where this is going.And I want you to know you can go when you need to.Just….just maybe give me a heads up before you bail?”Maybe he imagined it, but there was a sort of wanting in her words, like she needed him to say _yes_ as much as he wanted her to ask the question. _Or maybe you are just a fool._

For now, Atton was going to trust himself, trust in the thing before him and play out his hand.“Acceptable terms.Like I said.I’m in.”

They shook on it. Her grip was firm; the shake lasted longer than it needed to, like one or both of them didn’t want to let go.“Well, partner, first order of business….let’s get some sleep.Then we’ll see about a lead on our ship.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”He smirked to hide the flush he’d felt at _partner_. 

As Meetra turned to go back towards their apartment block, she glanced over her shoulder, those soft eyes smiling.“You coming, Rand?”

“Like I said, Surik, all yours.”


End file.
